Captive
by AComicComic
Summary: I wanted to write an apprentice Sladin story.  I know, a little Cliche. I'll try to make it more unique. Maybe even put in a few cameos from the Marvel universe, 'cause it's mostly either the Titans or Batman.
1. Dismissed

(Author notes! Author notes are fun (I guess) no they're not stop lying. Hey, Hey fans (poke). I'm annoying you and making you wait. MUAHAHAHA! you'll never get your porn! Okay fine fangirls ... and ... Danny (who's in it for the violance and gore, so if you see anything that says "Danny, stop reading now" that's how you know there's a secks scene coming up that he won't want to read ) Screw it, Danny, just don't read the entire thing, I'm not interrupting the story to put in a warning. Well, I won't keep you guys from your porn anymore)

Three days captive, at least Robin thought it had been three days. There were no windows in Slade's hideout. It was probably underground. For the second time Slade had captured him and forced him into an apprenticeship. At least last time's gimic was a little _creative_. Robin paused a moment to run his tongue over the small piece of metal latched firmly onto the roof of the mouth, it's barbs in the bone. He wondered if he should just have Slade detonate it. Wouldn't he rather be dead than work for Slade? ... "not really," he said outloud to himself.

"Talking to yourself?" Slade was standing in the doorway.

Robin quickly jerked around "... what do you _want_?"

"Excuse me? I don't believe I like that _tone_ you're taking with me."

"What tone?"

"_That_ tone," Slade snarled, "Get up, we have work to do." Robin followed him down the hall to the training room. After a short warm-up Slade began teaching Robin some hand-to-hand techniques, improving on what Robin already knew from Batman, but a little less ... clean. Slade was an opprotunistic fighter. He wouldn't hit someone when they were down ... but he _would_ kill them before they hit the floor. After improving on Robin's old techniques, he taught him a few new ones. He was clearly taking his time. Why wouldn't he? Robin isn't going anywhere, not _alive_ anyway. After training, with a few short breaks, Slade sent Robin to shower before dinner.

Robin thought about his friends while he was washing off the day's work. He wondered how they were getting along without him ... What day was it? Did he miss Christmas? It's very likely. The night he was captured was the day before Christmas Eve, and if Slade planned these training sessions, meals, and nights around a 24 hour schedual ... it's been at least three days. He also missed Starfire's winter holliday. He still can't pronounce it worth a damn, and wasn't even going to try. He knew it started with an R or was it an E? Something like that. _Ramadon? No, that's the name of the islamic holliday._ "I really need to learn the language," he thought outloud to himself.

When Robin was finished showering dinner was made and set at the kitchen table. Slade wasn't anywhere to be seen. He never was. By now, Robin was used to eating alone. He was kind of greatful. At least he didn't have to _see_ him. Though he was used to it by now, Robin hated all the time he spent alone, even if the time he didn't was spent with someone he intensely detested. The food wasn't that good either. It was nutritious enough, but not necessarily good-tasting. Though it wasn't that good, and most of it wasn't even identifiable, Robin _was_ hungry. There never seemed to be enough food, nutritionally, it was perfect. It was enough to give him energy and everything his body needs, but not enough to fill his stomoch, and since he ate fairly quickly, he was never full when he finished.

"Done?" Slade was standing in the doorway.

That was another thing Robin noticed about Slade. He didn't ever come within five feet of him unless he _had_ to. Robin was beginning to wonder if Slade was _revolted_ by him or something.

"Yes."

"Yes _what_?"

Robin snarled, "yes, _sir_." He didn't bother trying to mask his disgust.

"Not the word I was looking for, but close enough."

Slade grabbed Robin's dishes and let them soak in the sink.

"There's a cure for that y'know. It's called a _dishwasher_. Twenty-first century humans use it."

"Don't sass me, boy," Slade snarled, "I won't have this insolance from you."

"Yes, sir" Robin was getting more used to biting his tongue around Slade. He _wanted_ to tell him off and call him a great many nasty and ... admitably creative names, but he wouldn't. He still had the bruises from _last_ time.

Used to the normal routine of the day, Robin got up and was going to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.

"I havn't _dismissed_ you yet, Robin," Slade said, back still turned.

Robin looked at him, puzzled. Slade was never one to break routine. "Okay," Robin paused, "May I be dismissed?"

"No, I have something _else_ planned for tonight," Slade made his way past him and out into the main room of his lair, "something I doubt you'll _like_."

Robin paused before following, positive Slade was going to hand him another beating for talking back to him _again_. Slade didn't really seem too angry though, so that probably wasn't it. What could it be? Maybe Slade was going to teach him how to use a gun like he was talking about the other day. Maybe just more intensive training.

Slade had a seat in the living-room type area on the far-side of the room, nearest to the computer. There were a few seats, a coffee table, a few end tables. It was a surprisingly comfortable setting for an arch villain.

"Have a seat," Slade was unusually calm, which isn't usually a good sign. Robin sat. Slade was silent for a minute or two. He seemed to be studying him, "Are you comfortable?"

Robin wasn't sure how to respond, "... I guess." He was nervous, "What exactly do you have planned?" He fidgeted uneasily.

Slade paused, "I'm facing a bit of a dilema. See, I can either continue avoiding you, in which case your training will suffer, and I can't give you the sort of ... hands on, direct training that will better prepare you for your future assignments ... or, I can choose to vent out my ... _frustrations_ ... in which case you will be subjected to a few minutes of _pain_, but it won't necessarily effect your progress." Slade paused to see if Robin was catching on, which obviously he was not, "So, there enlies the dilema, should I spare you the pain and restrain myself, which could require a less hands on approach or ... should I persue some _release_."

Robin looked puzzled, "So ... what exactly is bothering you?"

"_You,_ Robin. I'm bothered by _you_. I'm having difficulty completing a _training session_ without weighing the pro's and cons of throwing you onto the floor and fucking your little _brains_ out."

Robin's eyes widened and his jaw dropped at Slade's blunt delivery, "_What_?"

"Don't make me _repeat_ myself."

"There is _no_ way I would _ever_-"

"You don't really have a _choice_ in the matter. It's already been decided."

Robin was horrified, "No!"

"I will _force_ you if I have to, Robin. I'd perfer for this to happen without having to resort to violance."

Robin was panicking, "Slade _no!_ That's just- That's just- I'm not _gay!_ and you're so-" He bit his tongue, "NO!"

"I'm aware that I'm over twice your age. I'm also well aware that you aren't gay. To tell the truth, I'm not exactly partial to the same sex _myself_ ... _you_ however ... I'm _quite_ attracted to."

"That's sick! I won't! You disgusting, phsychotic, sadistic _pedophile!_"

"I'm not a pedophile. You're fifteen, a little young maybe, but certainly able to understand the concept of _consent_."

"But-"

"This isn't up for _debait_, Robin. This is _happening_. There will be no more discussion on the matter. Now, are you going to make this _difficult_ for me?"

"Fuck you!"

"... Verywell," He paused to remove his belt, "then I suppose I have no choice but to use _force_."

Robin bolted over to the end of the room, only to find the door locked. He continued running around the room to all of the exits, looking for a way out. There was none. He was trapped. He froze, knowing there was no way he was going to escape. He felt a hand slide around his waist, pulling him against Slade's firm, hot frame. He tensed in Slade's grip as he started unbuckling his belt. He started to shiver, "Don't." He could hear his voice shaking as he trembled in fear as Slade began drawing down the zipper of his pants, tugging at the hem of them. Robin panicked and started to struggle. Slade responded by holding him tighter against his frame, pulling his hips to the already hard bulge in his pants. Robin began to struggle animalistically. Annoyed by his squirming, Slade threw him on the floor, promptly pinning him to the cold, hard lenolium before tugging down his pants. Robin continued to struggle, both of his thin wrists pinned down by Slade's hand, his other hand undoing his own pants. Robin looked back when he heard the zipper, horrified to see Slade retrieve the large hard mass from his pants, "Nonononononono!" Robin struggled harder.

"_Brace yourself_," Slade gave a slight warning before pushing his thick hard cock into him. Robin let out a pittiful scream, struggling despirately to pull his wrists from Slade's iron vice grip. Slade continued to push more of his shaft into him, not even half-way there, "_Relax_, Robin!"

Robin growled and let out a pittiful yelp, "I _can't_- Ah!" He was interrupted by Slade struggling to fit more of himself in, "Get it out!"

"_Relax_. You're making this more difficult than this needs to _be_," He grunted, pushing in another inch and a half. Robin growled and struggled, tears welling up in his masked eyes. He tried to relax, making the last two and a half inches a bit easier. Slade pulled back before plunging farward again. Robin screamed, clawing the floor now that Slade had released his wrists. Slade gripped his hair with one hand, holding Robin's hips at an angle to his with the other. Robin gritted his teeth, trying to hold back sobs. His throat was burning from screaming.

Slade was trying to be gentle. He didn't want to injure his apprentice. He needed him to be able to train. As much as he didn't want Robin injured, he was having difficulty holding back. He had already _hurt_ him. He was a virgin, and he'd probably never had anything like this done _before_. Ofcourse he was in _pain_. He just didn't want to cause any serious damage, however in his excitment he began losing his restraint. He was so _tight_. Just the thought of what he was actually _doing_ was turning him on. _Robin_, the boy wonder, that little teenaged heartthrob, with his clean face, backstreet boy hair, colorful outfit, a goddamn _poster boy_, and Slade was _fucking_ him into the floor. Robin was sobbing freely now, not bothering to stifle himself. He would've screamed more, but by then he had lost his voice. Slade decided he should finish this quickly. He knew the boy was in a great deal of pain and as cruel as he was ... he wasn't going to make him endure any more of this than he _had_ to. Slade continued speeding his pace, careful not to injure the boy. He would've liked to take his time, but he didn't want to _torture_ the poor boy. He let out a grunt in Robin's ear when he came, the last few thrusts unintentionally rough. He stayed there for a few more seconds, panting hot air down Robin's neck, while he shook and sobbed.

He pulled out and fixed his pants, still half-dazed, "you are dismissed." He stood up and left the room, striding down the hall to his study.

Robin lay there a few more minutes, letting himself shake and sob and try to scream in unbearable anger shame and agony. After letting out the last few sobs, he pulled himself to his feet and pulled his pants back up, wincing at the last couple of inches. he walked down the hall to his room on quivering legs. He collapsed onto the bed, wishing he coult just set off that bomb at the roof of his mouth and _die_. Eventually, the exhaustion from his struggles got the better of him and he drifted off to sleep.

(Ugh! SO SAD! We really need to pep this up. Anywhoselpenis, I'm sorry about the veigueness in the rape scene ... it's a rape scene, I try not to give the horny details when something terrible is happening. So, don't worry, the sex scenes in future chapters will be better, and I'll try to inject a little bit of humor to lighten the mood. Still relatively new at this. If there are any errors, I'm really sorry, I just got to lazy to re-read it. So yea, there will be new chapters.)


	2. Recollections of The Incident

(Okay, I wasn't quite sure how to continue with this. I mean I just had Slade raping Robin in the last chapter. It's kind of hard to follow up on that. Anyway, to conclude, it's been way too long since I've written a second chapter. I can't just leave things the way I left them. So, last night, before I went to bed (which is when I get my best ideas usually) I had an _awesome_ idea. An awesome, yet horrible idea. Awesome for the fans, but kind of horrible for both Slade and Robin. Anyways, enjoy.)

A usual day for Slade would start at five in the morning after anywhere from thirty minutes to four hours of sleep, but Slade didn't sleep that night. Relieved as he was, physically, his mind was in a state of unrest. He reasoned it wasn't _guilt_ for what he'd done, but rather uncertainty about what he was _going_ to do. After last night he ofcourse expected Robin scared, angry ... in _pain_. He reasoned he should start things slowly, perhaps a history lesson today, instead of physical training. That would have to wait. Robin was probably exhausted, and Slade, considering the circumstances, decided to let him sleep in, taking the time to plan out this ... unusual, and off-schedual day.

Looking back on things ... Slade decided there was no alternative. He would have done it sooner or later. After breakfast, and some well-needed planning, he figured, since he had some idle time, he could relax, maybe try to get some sleep. Sleep didn't come. He thought about what happened, about how it happened. From the beginning, Slade knew he had an unusual fascination with Robin. He enjoyed any new intel he got on Robin, old cases with the Batman, new ones with the Titans, his cocky attitude, his firey temper. There was only one limit Slade put on his investigations, Robin's identity. He perfered not to know. It made things more exciting. Besides, had he known, it would probably disappoint him. Secret identities are never exciting, which was probably the point of him using his first name as an alias. That and the fact that he enjoyed watching Robin scratch his head trying to figure out who he was when he'd laid it all out in front of him this whole time.

Aside from enjoying learning about Robin, one of his favorite past-times was watching him. He wouldn't miss a news interview or the chance to see him in action. He began to hold a boarderline obsession with the boy. By this time, he'd already decided Robin would be his apprentice. He was perfect.

In the beginning he hardly considered his interest in Robin a sexual one, but rather one of admiration for his potential as a weapon. _His_ weapon. This admiration began to change after a while. He didn't notice it until this latest episode, but he'd so often stare, so often find himself distracted. These should have been signs, but Slade heeded no warning. He was too busy planning. He _would_ have Robin. He would have his perfect apprentice.

Over the course of nearly two years, Robin had grown. He was fifteen, in the middle of his adolescent years. He'd grown more confident, and he was starting to take the shape of a young man, rather than a lanky teen. In that time Slade developed a carnal desire for him, and by the three days leading up to this incident, Slade was fully aware of it.

He resolved to control himself, however, for the well-being of his apprentice, ofcourse. He couldn't have a sexual relationship with his protégé. Things needed to be strictly professional. Those three days he held Robin captive, however ... plans changed. Now that he _had_ Robin ... it became harder to keep himself calm. Innocent tasks such as training would give him the fierce urge to throw him on the floor and _take_ him right _there_. He _craved_ that supple, pale, teenaged body.

He nearly lost all control during training the day of the incident. Robin made a crack about his eye, and he swiftly repremanded him for it with a backhand to the side of the face. Watching Robin squirm trying to get up, hearing him groan as he struggled to maintain consciousness was _torture_. Finally, Robin managed himself onto his elbows. Before he could pick himself up Slade pressed him back down against the lenolium tile with his steel boot.

"Stay down."

He dropped onto his knees, straddling the boy's slender hips. He grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them to the floor. The whole thing happened within an instant. If he hadn't caught himself he would've lost all control ... and if there was one thing Slade _hated_ ... is was to not have _control_. So, to keep from future instances such as these from occurring, he would get it out of his system, and so he did ... so _why_ is he still so _unsatisfied_?

It was nearly Ten now and Slade hadn't gotten a _second_ of sleep. He reasoned Robin was probably awake by now and ready for today's lecture.

Robin was in fact awake at the time, surprised Slade hadn't woken him at six or seven in the morning like he usually did. Whatever the reason for Slade's tartiness, he was greatful. He didn't want to _see_ him. He knew he was going to have to face him _eventually_, but he dreaded it. So when he heard the latch on the door, his stomoch dropped. He instinctively lept to his feet in fear, backing to the farside of the room.

Slade stood in the doorway, tapping his fingers on the doorframe, "are you ready?"

Normally, Robin would've snapped back with something ... but he was too afraid to think. "ready for what?" He tried to hide the shaking in his voice.

"Your _training_."

"... I'll get ready," Robin wasn't in any position to object. He waited until Slade had left the room to get dressed, carefully sliding the spandex top over the bruises on his arms and back, and the leather pants over the bruises on his thighs, from where Slade's knees pinned his legs apart. He winced as he pulled his pants the last few inches up his waist.

When he was dressed, Robin crept into the training room, terrified of what Slade might do to him. Robin waited for the presumed physical abuse and hard work that would leave him sore for days, but Slade had other plans, "Sit." Robin took a seat. This made him uneasy. He _hated_ unpredictable situations.

"For your training, I will require you to have some basic knowledge in nuclear chemistry and physics, aswell as several foreign languages, cultures-"

"What exactly is it you're training me for?"

Slade paused, "Well ... it's complicated, but I'll explain when you have to know."

"I have to know _now_-"

"You don't _have_ to know _anything_, besides the fact that I'll _kill_ you if you don't make yourself _useful_ ... or ... I could always find _other_ uses for you."

Robin shuddered, "Yes, sir." His voice shook. He could feel himself on the verdge of tears. He felt so ... _trapped_. He'd never felt so _trapped_ before.

Slade left the room for a minute and came back with a book. He placed it in Robin's lap, along with a stack of papers and a pen. I want chapters twelve through _twenty_, read, memorized, and thoroughly _understood_ by the end of the day."

Robin paused a minute, sick with fear of what Slade might do if he argued back. It didn't matter if Slade's demands were unfair. He would have to obey him.

(XD ha! you didn't get any secks! At least you got some maybe-guilt. Be happy fangirls! :) But in all seriousness, the next chapter will be better, I promise.)


	3. Sins Of The Father

(Okay, I understand the last chapter was a bit of a disappointment, but this one won't be. It'll have blackjack! and hookers! in fact! forget the blackjack!)

It was past midnight ... Slade was supposed to be home at _seven_. The lights were off. Slade figured he could sneak in without waking Grant. He looked upward at the the window of his bedroom on the second story. The only way up would be to climb the wooden frame on which the rose vines lay. He was still buzzed from the alcohol and the nicotine consumed at the party.

"Hey," a voice whispered from behind him, startling him.

"Jesus Christ, man! What are you doing here? If my Dad sees you-"

"Chill, Slade. The lights are off. He's asleep," He edged toward him, "when can I see you again?"

Slade felt heat surge up from the collar of his shirt to the back of his ears, "I don't know ... I'll try next Saturday-"

"Next Saturday? No sooner?"

"Can't be any sooner ... You know that. He'll get suspicious."

"Okay, fine ... I'd like to spend some time with you before he ships you off to military school, though."

"... Don't worry ... I'll see you again before then. What's he gonna do? _Kill_ me?" Slade let out a little chuckle before being interrupted by his companion pressing his lips to his. He could feel another surge of heat radiating up the back of his neck. Slade wraped his arms around his companion's neck and returned his affections. They spent another five minutes kissing, pausing at short intervals for breaths, before Slade finally whispered, "you should go. It's late." Reluctantly, Slade's companion left, eager for the next time they met. Slade wouldn't admit it now, twenty-seven years after, but he was just as eager.

After taking a minute to calm down, he summoned the courage to begin climbing. There were few places to put his hands without the thorns of the rose vines puncturing them. By the time he reached the top, His clothes were tattered, and his hands and arms scratched by the thorns. He figured he could change quickly, so Grant wouldn't notice his clothes, and as for the scatches ... he only ever wears long-sleeves anyway. He was the sort of kid who wore long sleves all-year round.

Once through the window, Slade closed it quietly, careful not to wake Grant ... when someone behind him flicked on the light. "you're _late_," It was Grant, standing in the doorway, blocking him from escape.

"... I was just out s-studying. W-with my f-friend ... sir ..."

"Your _friend_? By which you mean that boy who had his _tongue_ down your throat?" He was furious.

"I can explain-" Grant struck him and he hit the floor with such force that it knocked the wind from his lungs. He didn't want to hear it. Slade coughed and wheezed trying to get his breath back. Grant didn't wait that long to kick him in the side, cracking two of his ribs.

"_Get_ up, you sniveling little _shit_," Grant grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and pulled him up to his feet, "What the _fuck_ were you thinking?"

"I was just having _fun_," Slade was shaking now.

Grant Slammed him against his bedroom wall, tearing the AC,DC poster behind him, "You were thinking with your _dick_ ... You _fucking_ idiot! Do you _want_ to get _AIDS_!" Before Slade could shout back at him, he kneed him in the groin with considerable force. Slade let out a shriek and hit his knees, his vision blurred through his tears. He coughed for a few seconds, but he didn't cry. He wouldn't let himself cry in front of _him_. 'Men do not cry.' "Next time excersize some _self-control_. No son of mine will be seen with another man."

Slade finally managed to shout back in a strained voice, "I wish I _wasn't_ your son!"

Grant paused, "Me too." He turned and left Slade writhing in pain on the floor.

(UGH! SEPARATE IT WHEN I TELL YOU TO SEPARATE IT STUPID COMPUTER!)

Nearly a week had past since the incident. Slade was determined not to let his libedo get the better of him a second time. He may have had to cut a few training sessions short, but he avoided getting too ... excited. He kept his cool, and hadn't once lost control since ... but it was getting harder to keep it up. He knew his patience was running thin ... but he also knew he needed the boy to trust him. He couldn't force him again, or he would risk losing his apprentice.

Robin was frightened of Slade since the incident, and though Slade enjoyed the obeydiance that grew from the fear ... he didn't want it. He didn't want Robin to cower and cringe like a dog. He wanted him to _want_ to obey him. He wanted him to _like_ following orders ... and when the time was right ... he wanted him to take _pleasure_ in what he was training him for. He didn't want a mindless drone that only obeyed him in fear of punishment. He wouldn't stand for it. He wouldn't let Robin become something so _pathetic_.

Slade decided that to fight his urges a little longer wouldn't be too much of a challenge. He would have Robin soon enough ... and he would have _all_ of him. No tears. No sobs. No pathetic pleas for mercy. He would _want_ what was coming to him.

One day, after a training session that ran rather late, he decided he would make his move. Robin was on his way to shower before eating, as was routine.

"I havn't dismissed you yet, boy."

Robin stopped and could feel his stomoch drop and his skin crawl. He remembered what had happened last time Slade dismissed him late ...

"What do you want?"

"Don't play coy with me, Robin. You know _exactly_ what I want."

Robin quivered with fear. He knew he couldn't refuse ... He couldn't _run_ ... He was trapped.

"Don't."

"You aren't in any position to make _demands_, Robin."

"_Please_ don't!" he begged.

"Don't grovel to _me,_ boy," Slade snarled in disgust, "No apprentice of mine is going to _degrade_ himself by begging for _mercy_. I intend to make a _man_ out of you and I suggest you start _acting_ like one."

"A _man_ wouldn't have raped a fifteen year old _boy_."

Slade struck him hard accross the face, sending him to the lenolium tile with considerable force. Slade wanted to _punish_ him for that remark. He wanted to shove his cock into him and make him _scream_ remorse and _beg_ for mercy ... but he couldn't. He needed Robin to trust him ... and he couldn't ask him to trust him if he'd _rape_ him again.

Slade got down to his knees and pinned Robin to the floor and started to work on his pants.

"NO!" Robin struggled and squirmed, trying to keep his legs shut, but Slade pryed them apart with his knees, allowing him more access to draw down the zipper of his pants ... He _loved_ the way Robin looked in that tight leather and spandex apprentice uniform ... but he would've loved it better _off_.

"Be still."

"Fuck you!" he spat at him, hitting the bronze side of his mask.

Instead of repremanding him with a firm backhand, Slade simply chuckled at him, "Perhaps later."

Robin was panicked. He wasn't going to let Slade take advantage of him again. _Never_! Not without a fight. He struggled harder than he ever had in his _life_ ... but Slade was just too strong for him. The more he struggled the tighter Slade's grip, he harder he held him down, the deeper he pushed his knees into his thighs, pinning them to the floor.

"Save your energy, Robin," Slade chuckled at him, "you're going to _need_ it." He reached into his pants and pulled out his member (god I can't type that without giggling. I'm so immature). Robin's eyes widened as he looked down and saw Slade's hand ... _stroking_ him. He was in such shock that he could hardly _feel_ it at first ... but then he could feel a twinge and a rush of sensation go up his spine. A flush of red came over his face as he squirmed in Slade's iron grip.

"Slade, what are you _doing_?" He struggled, "stop!"

Slade ignored him and proceeded to stroke up and down the shaft a few times before running his thumb over the sensitive tip. Robin gasped and jolted at the sudden pleasurable sensation ... he was getting ... _hard_. No! He couldn't let this happen ... but ... oh god it felt so _good_. Another gasp escaped him when Slade ran his thumb over his head a second time. His mind went blank. He was running on pure instinct now ... and he just couldn't keep still. He writhed and arched his back and _moaned_ "oh _Slade_-" he gasped. He came back to his senses ... he realized what he just _said_ ... what was _happening_, "No!" He squirmed, but it wasn't any use, Slade was too strong.

"Don't fight it," Slade whispered, through his slightly labored, aroused breathing as he pumped Robin's now rock-hard shaft a little faster, determined to break him ... and break him he did. Robin squirmed and moaned and panted, unable to contain himself. He used what little control he still _had_ of his mouth to not mention Slade's name through the breathy moans and gasps.

Slade was getting hot under the layers of kevlar, spandex, and leather in his suit, not to mention the mask. He knew Robin was still holding back, but it didn't matter to him. Making him _scream_ his name could come later ... right now, he was just focused on making him _come_.

Robin was close. His entire body ached with strain. He was breathless and out of his _mind_ with every touch. He let out a loud strained groan as he came into his master's hand, his head spinning, his mind blank, his vision blurred with pleasurable sensation, leaving him breathless and dazed.

Slade wanted nothing more than to just _take_ him right there ... but that would have to wait ... For now, he'd just let Robin enjoy himself.

"You are dismissed," his breathing was heavy and laced with frustration.

Robin didn't leave right away. He lay there for almost seven full minutes before pulling himself up onto his shaking legs. He enjoyed it while it lasted ... but now ... he had that feeling of being _filthy_ all over again ... His eyes welled up with tears as stumbled away to the bathroom.

Slade watched him leave quietly, aware of the guilt and shame he felt now ... but not at all worried by it. He let out a little chuckle once he was out of sight, "I know it seems bad now, but trust me ... You'll _learn_ to _like_ it."

(EEEE! It's finally done! Second chapter! Woo! like it? hate it? please! I need feedback! I don't do this for free! I do it for ATTENTION! ^_^ . and 'cause I like to write pornographic scenes)


	4. Safety

(YAOI YAOI YAOI SLADIN YAOI! ... now that I have your attention ... REVIEWS! I like them! Bad ones let me know what I did wrong, good ones ... are just fun to read and stroke my ego. And my "ego" likes to be stroked ;3 Reviews please! I'm attention-starved. Okay, I'm done. I won't make you wait any longer.)

Robin stayed in the shower for nearly a full hour ... trying to wash off that _disgusting_ feeling he had ... but no matter how hard he _scrubbed_ he couldn't get himself _clean_ ... His skin was red and raw by the time he was done. How could he _do_ that ... How could he let him _do_ that to him ... _Him_ ... _Slade_ ... his _enimy_ ... his god damn _rapist_. He couldn't let that happen again. He _couldn't_. He had to get out of that place ... and go where? ... Back to the Titans? How could he face them again after this? No! ... he couldn't go back. He could never go back.

The following morning, Slade decided he would teach his apprentice how to handle a weapon. Afterall, he'd done so well with his hand-to-hand combat training ... and he had already recieved training from one of the world's best improvisional fighters ... True, he thought the Batman's strict moral codes were _neive_, but he still respected his skill. Robin was ready, besides, the sooner he taught him how to use a weapon, the sooner he could teach him important skills like how to defend himself from attack with a weapon and how to treat knifewounds, gunshot wounds, ect., livesaving information.

After Robin had his breakfast Slade braught him to a part of his underground lair he'd never been before. Robin would've asked where they were ... but he was too uncomfortable ... after what happened last night ... Besides, why would he talk to him _anyway_ after what he did to him? Fuck that! He would speak if he _had_ to and _only_ if he had to, but other than that it would be the bare minimum.

"Are you ready, Robin?"

"For what?"

"Today's lesson," he answered, walking past him to an artilary closet, "Today you'll be learning how to use a firearm."

Robin paused, "Batman had rules ... no guns ... guns are for _cowards_."

"I have rules _too_ ... guns are for when your opponents are _armed_ or too dangerous for you to kill _without_ one. I'm surprised you're still _alive_ with some of the _Batman's_ rules."

"Are you saying he didn't have my safety in mind?"

"That's precicely what I'm saying. He cares more about his rules than your safety."

"That's _bullshit!_"

"It's the _truth_ and you _know it_," Slade handed him the handgun, "Contrary to what Batman has taught you, guns are quite useful. You can kill as many men as you have bullets, then you won't have to focus on as much at one time. Using guns isn't _cowardly_ ... it's efficient."

Robin wanted to argue, but he didn't. He wouldn't indulge him.

"Now, put your hand here, good. Turn the safety off when the gun is in use, and once you're finished using it, _always_ remember to turn the safety back on," Slade directed him to one of his robots on the farside of the room, "Hold your arm straight. Line that knotch at the end with your eye- What are you doing?"

"Aiming."

"You aim with both eyes _open_," Slade corrected, "That's better, now-." A gunshot interrupted, "Did I tell you to shoot?" Slade repremanded him.

"N-no it was an accident-"

"Don't let it happen again!" Slade snapped back at him, "Line it up again. Keep your eyes _open_. That's it ... Now, when I say 'fire' Don't _pull_ the trigger, but _squeeze_ it, gently ... fire."

Robin did as Slade said and gently squeezed the trigger. The gun shook his arm and jerked back his hand with a deafening "**bang**!" He let out a startled shriek and paused for a minute, his face flushed red with embarassment.

Slade paused, "you're _kidding_ me."

"It surprised me."

"You're surprised that guns are _loud_?"

Robin ignored him. He noticed that he didn't hit his target. He was actually ... kind of disappointed ... and then he realized something else. The gun was in his hand. A weapon of _death_ was in _his_ hands. He practiced two or three more times until he was certain he could hit his target. Eventually, though, he ran out of ammunition, "I need more."

Slade let out a little chuckle. He could see how much Robin _liked_ the _power_. He liked the thought of what he could do with that gun. He got another magazine out of the artilary closet and handed it to Robin. Robin promptly re-loaded the gun, flicked the safety back off and aimed it _right_ at Slade's _eye_, "I want _out_. Let me go or you get to see what the inside of your head looks like."

Slade was shocked, but only for a fraction of a second. He wasn't at all _worried_ ... just surprised at Robin's _audacity_, "Do it then." He held his ground.

Robin's finger was on the trigger. He thought for a second ... that he might _actually_ kill him ... but ... he thought of Batman. He couldn't do it.

"Don't make threats if you can't follow through with them," Slade snatched the gun away and put it back in it's place, "That's enough training for today."

Robin looked a bit puzzled. It was _way_ too early to stop training ... certainly for the entire day. He wasn't going to ask ... He didn't want to know. He'd like to have some hope that nothing was going to happen to him ... even if it _was_ false hope.

When he turned to leave the room, Slade decided he'd let him, afterall, he had some errands to run if he was to be ready for tonight.

(I really need Microsoft Word)

While Slade was out Robin had the entire place to himself. He figured he'd take this time to formulate an escape plan. He spent an hour and a half searching for a way out, but there was only one door out, sealed shut. There didn't seem to be a lock, but there was no way to open it. He thought a minute, back to the night Slade captured him. He was heavily sedated, but he remembered a few glimpses of things. He remembered the car ride ... smelling the leather ... leather has a distinctive smell. He remembered Slade picking him up, dragging him to a door ... then ... it went black for a while, he was out again ... then he remembered moving, but they weren't moving ... he felt like he was ... falling ... "an elevator!" he exclaimed, "it's underground!" He paused, realizing this created more problems than anything else.

Robin gave up his escape search after a while, realizing he wasn't getting out anytime soon. He was board, so he just let his mind wander, as he usually did in these situations. Sometimes it would help him formulate a plan, see something he might have missed. His subconscious had a way of sorting things out. After a while, he started to think about Slade. He wondered why Slade wanted an apprentice, why he wanted to destroy the city ... why he wanted ... _him_. He wondered if he knew him personally, and that's why he considered him to be his apprentice ... then it occurred to him. An apprentice is normally taken on by someone well-established in their occupation. What was Slade's occupation? Maybe he was just a garden-variety supervillain ... no, Slade isn't just a supervillain. It's always clear what a supervillain wants. Luthor wants Superman Dead. Joker wants destruction, to show humanity it's dark side. Slade ... wants an apprentice ... but why does he want the city destroyed?

Who _is _ he? He just _appeared_ out of _nowhere_ and targeted _him_. Why? Who the hell _is_ he? The more Robin pondered Slade and his motives ... the more frustrated he became. Slade wasn't even _there_ and he was getting the better of him ... God, how did this _happen_? How could he be so _weak_? ... No, it wasn't him. It wasn't his fault. It was Slade's. He knew that.

Four years ago, Gotham city, NY ... Batman and he were on the third location given to them by a victim of assault and armed robbery. She had lied to them so many times ... Robin was beginning to wonder if there _was_ an assault, but Batman knew better. For the third time they searched a new location and found nothing. When Batman asked her once again to give the _real_ location ... she recanted her statement ... She told them she wasn't robbed and she was sorry for wasting their time.

Robin was livid, "That time we _wasted_ on your false-statement we could have been spending on people who _were_ assaulted-!"

"Robin! Shut up!" Batman repremanded.

"Why? She-" He was startled when he heard the woman sob. He didn't understand. Why was she crying? Maybe she felt guilty. She _should_. She wasted their _time_.

"It was my fault!" She sobbed, "I shouldn't have taken that way home! I knew it was late out! I-" She was hystarical.

Batman told Robin to leave the room while he talked to her ... and he reluctantly obeyed. It wasn't Robin's fault that he didn't understand. The concept of someone who had done nothing wrong feeling _guilty_ was a little much for an elleven year-old to wrap his mind around. He pretended to walk away, but he knelt down and put his ear to the door to listen.

"Miss Jones ... what _really_ happened that night?" Bruce asked as if he didn't already know, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It was my fault!"

Bruce kneeled down and made eye contact with her, brushing the hair from her face, "What he did to you wasn't your fault. _He_ did this to you. It's _his_ fault ... What he did to you was terrible ... and we're going to have him rot in _prison_ for what he did ... but we need you to tell us where we can find the evidence first ... and fast ... it's supposed to rain tonight."

She told him, but unfortunately it was too late. By the time Batman and Robin reached the crime scene ... any evidence left had been washed away by the rain. The victim never got justice ... and that monster never got what he deserved.

Robin didn't understand then ... but he did now. What happened to him wasn't his fault. Slade did this. He kidnapped him. He _raped_ him. He _manipulated_ him ... It wasn't his fault ... so why did he feel so _guilty_? Against all _reason_ ... he felt so ... _filthy_, so _disgusting_ ... he moaned his fucking _name_ for Christ's sake!

"Robin," Slade interrupted him, "go to your room and wait for me." He grinned deviously behind his mask, "I have a _surprise_ for you."

"I don't _want_ anything from _you_."

"Come now Robin, we _both_ know that's not true," Slade chuckled at him.

Robin wanted to tell him to fuck off and die ... but he decided he would avoid the beating that would follow such a comment. He obeydiantly went to his room and waited, unsure of what Slade wanted from him ... but assumed he was going to assault him again. Robin collapsed onto the bedsheets and stared at the ceiling. Waiting was the worst. He knew it was going to happen, why couldn't he just get it _over_ with? Where the hell _was_ he? What's _taking_ him so long? (Silly Robin, it's called _foreplay_)

After about fifteen minutes Slade came in carrying a black plastic bag. Robin gasped and flinched a bit at the thought of a brutal strangulation.

"You can't be serious," Slade scoffed at him, insulted by his distrust, "After I went through all this trouble, why would I just kill you?"

"I don't know, maybe because you got what you _wanted_ from me?"

"Don't sell yourself short Robin. I could get a _lot_ more use out of you."

Robin bit his tongue and faught the overwhelming urge to argue with him and protest the torment he was referring to, but it would only make things worse.

He knew what was going to happen to him. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. He knew fighting would only make things worse. He didn't want to have to endure any of this consciously.

"I've never drank before. I think it'd be fun-"

"I know what you're trying to do, Robin, and you're not getting off so easy. What use would you be to me unconscious?" He tilted his chin upwards, "I want to see you _squirm_ ..." He paused to drag his tongue up his neck and the side of his face, "and hear you _scream_."

Robin struck him accross the face, regretting it even as he did so. He paused and stared up at Slade as he stood. He always towered over Robin ... and aside from towering over him, he was huge. He was built and firm and fit. Robin caught his eyes wandering down Slade's firm ripped stomoch and immediately shot his eyes back up.

Slade chuckled at him for a second, "you're going to _pay_ for that." He rode his hand up his thigh and began messaging the front of his pants. Robin began to struggle, but Slade pinned him in place, "don't move."

Robin headed his warning, feeling him gripping his wrist so hard the bones ached. Robin started to fill with an unwanted feeling. He could feel his groin aching at Slade's touch, hardening as Slade stroked it through the fabrick of his pants. Robin tried to calm his breathing, but that only made his lengthy breaths shake as he exhailed.

Slade gently and carefully lifted Robin's shirt over his chest, shoulders, and pulled it from his skin.

Robin was snapped back into reality. Slade wasn't going to _pleasure_ him. That's not who Slade is. He always has an alterior motive. He was going to _rape_ him. Robin started to panic.

"_Relax_, Robin," Slade held him down with one hand as he slid his pants and underwear off with the other. This was going to be more difficult than previously planned. Perhaps it was time to employ a new strategy.

Slade leaned down and lifted his mask slightly to kiss lightly at his chest, in the hollow area where the ribs are fused. Robin froze, not knowing what to make of this ... seemingly ... gentle act. It wasn't painful. He _had_ to be manipulating him again. It was just to try and sooth him ... to calm him down before he-

Slade moved to the right a few centimeters and started teasing his chest with his tongue.

God ... it was _working_. Robin couldn't stifle the gasp that erupted from him at that point. It felt like something was buzzing in his head, making him disy. He could almost forget for a second that he was _trapped_ there. It was hard to focus on anything at all, aside from how _good_ it felt.

He let out a groan of frustration as Slade moved away and started to kiss down his stomoch, sucking and nipping lightly at his skin, pausing for a moment at his naval before continuing down. Robin's eyes widened as he realized what Slade was doing, but before he could open his mouth to object, Slade took him into his mouth and started sucking and working his tongue up and down the shaft.

"Ah!" Robin let out a small yelp at the suddenness of it. He started to squirm in Slade's grip as every instinct-driven thought told him to _move_. Slade took the squirming as a que to move faster, so he did, earning more moans from the boy.

Robin gasped and let out a long breathy moan, "_Slade_." His eyes widened as his hand shot up to his mouth, as if to try and draw the words _back_ ... but it was too late. It was out there.

Slade would have liked to continue until Robin moaned his name _freely_ and came right into his _mouth_, but a growing pain in his groin told him it was time to move things along. He reached down and started undoing his pants.

Robin heard the zipper draw down and started struggling immediately, violantly trying to thrash from his grip, but his body was too weak and excited to move _anywhere_ away from his mouth. Robin couldn't help but let out a groan of frustration when Slade spat out his throbbing shaft.

Slade chuckled to himself as he watched Robin squirm in his grip, trying despirately to find release, "Don't worry Robin. This is _far_ from _over_."

(What? Ending a sex scene before any penetration? Yes. I love cliffhangers. I'm sorry for the wait on this chapter, guys. I've been really busy.)


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